What Could Have Been: The Boxcar
Hello everyone. Thanks for all of the reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. At the moment I'm going through a wicked case of writer's block for Together, Shadowing Death and Restart so I'm trying to update everything else regularly to make up for it.
This is the same day as chapter three, just at night.
----------------------------Elizabeth and Sam's Apartment
"Elizabeth Hardy! You're not getting out of this, get out here!" Sam yelled from outside Elizabeth's door. She was fully decked out in club attire. A cranberry tanktop with a slinky short black skirt that fit her like a glove, the outfit was finished off with knee-high black boots.
Behind the door a groan could be heard. Elizabeth had been fighting going to the club more than anything. Truth be told, the club did sound like a nice one. Sam had said it included three levels. The first was a typical dance club type set up. Small tables lined the walls and lights flashed in intresting designs. There was a bar and a stage for live acts. The second floor was a sit down restraunt. It was more classy then its downstairs companion. The menu was a mix of almost everything. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Everything from steak to seafood to burgers to pizza. The room was decorated in warm reds and tans and the wooden tables were covered in tablecloths that matched the décor. The final floor was a pool hall/ sports bar mesh. TV's overhead had various games running on them and there were pool tables that littered the room. It was more a upscale bar set up.
Sam had been looking forward to it all day and had refused to be swayed on the choice to go. Something that Elizabeth had attempted to do very hard. "Sam, wouldn't it be better to just stay home tonight. Or we could go to that café you love...."
Even behind the closed door Elizabeth could tell her friend was contemplating. Her hopes were soon dashed, unfortuneatley.
"Nice try, Hardy."
Giving in to the inevitable Elizabeth opened the door. Her blue sequined number was short and had only one strap. It complimented Elizabeth's eyes perfectly. "Fine. Lets go."
Sam quickly hooked her arm in Elizabeth's and walked her to the door. "I knew you'd see it my way."
------------------------------The Boxcar
"So, you actually coming out of your penthouse tonight?" Dillon asked Morgan offhandedly.
Morgan looked Dillon, whom he'd taken under his wing. He hadn't been in Rome long before he'd met up with a kid who tried to steal his wallet. It didn't take much to get him to give it back once Morgan had caught up with him. There was something about the then eighteen year old that stuck a cord in Morgan. He offered to get him something to eat. Dillon, whose name he had learned soon after, had accepted his offer enthusastically.
According to Dillon, his mother was some gold digger type. She dragged Dillon from guy to guy with her and often used him to con money out of them. The moment he turned eighteen he was out of the door and hadn't seen her since. The little money he had managed to steal from his mother was quickly used up and after three months on his own, he was on the street.
A year later the two were like brothers in all senses of the word. Teasing included. Dillon lived with Morgan in the penthouse that was the fourth level of Morgan's club. Dillon worked on the first floor mostly, but was also brought in on the other two as a client relations type. It was rare that they actually had to bother Morgan with those types of things. Dillon knew that his friend wasn't a people person and tried to take care of all of those things so Morgan wouldn't have to.
Morgan was eyeing him with a typical big brother stare, "I come out."
His weak argument was met with a eye roll. "Oh of course, how could I forget that infamous lurking?"
"I don't like crowds." Morgan stated defensively.
Dillon nodded, smirking, "I know, you've told me."
Truth was, Dillon did know. After much asking and eventually a lot of forcing on Dillon's part, Morgan had told Dillon about himself. Everything from Jason Quartermaine, to Sonny Corinthos. Dillon knew about his time as Michael's father, and his love for Elizabeth Webber. Morgan's tale had given Dillon a whole new respect for him.
Dillon was also the only person that knew Morgan's real name. He rarely invoked it. Only to get his attention or when they were in the middle of a serious talk. But never in front of other people.
Morgan put down the pen he was using for the books and stared off for a second. "I just have this really weird feeling about tonight."
"The feeling you have is a overwhelming urge to come out and dance like the funky partier you are." Dillon joked, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully get Morgan to crack a smile. "I realize it's a new feeling for you, but go with it, good things may happen."
Instead of getting a smile, Dillon got a pillow from the couch being thrown at his head. "Fine, fine, see what happens when I try to help you? I'm going downstairs, and if I don't see you eventually I'll drag you down there."
"I'd like to see you try." Morgan continued with the banter. Dillon was the only person that Morgan would smile for or even acknowledge most of the time.
Dillon put his hands up in mock surrendar and headed to the elevator. He hit the button for the first floor and stepped out when his destination had been reached. The Boxcar was one of the hottest clubs in Rome. It was almost always jam packed and the door was manned by several muscle men who kept people out.
He scanned the room and saw some regulars and a whole lot of hot girls. Every danced as though they wouldn't ever get the chance to again. The way the bartender sent him a overworked smile Dillon knew they were in for yet another good night. He pushed his way through the hordes of dancers to the front of the room and through the door. The two bouncers on call for the night were two of the biggest sides of beef that Dillon had ever seen.
In front of them stood what had to be fifty people, all begging to be let in. Two smaller women at the amongst the crowd caught his eye. The one to the left had auburn hair that Dillon thought was the most beautiful shade he had ever seen. There was something different about her that he didn't see in most girls.
He poked the beefier of the two guards, Scott, and pointed out the two girls. He nodded and Dillon waved to them, signalling that they could come in. His girl grabbed the other by the hand and weaved them through the crowd.
"Come on in ladies. The Boxcar's policy is that the beautiful ones can't be left outside." Dillon drawled and grinned at the one he had been watching. "Name's Dillon Clifton."
"Sam McQueen." The young woman stuck her hand out to shake and the moment their fingers connected they both got a shock down their spines. For a second they seemed to have forgotten Elizabeth, who was watching the whole thing was a amused smile.
Dillon wrenched his hand back in shock and then turned to Elizabeth. "And whose the one with the beautiful baby blues?"
"Elizabeth Hardy."
In that moment Dillon got another shock. Elizabeth Hardy? Her face matched with the picture Morgan had shown him only once.
Elizabeth Hardy was Elizabeth Webber. Jason Morgan's great love.
"Nice to meet you Elizabeth." Dillon said in a quick recovery. "Tell you what ladies. Since the bouncers forgot our beautiful women policy I'll treat you both to a free drink to make up for the rude waiting."
Elizabeth was about to protest but Sam discretly tapped her boot against Elizabeth's sandals. "We'd love to." Sam said as Dillon ushered them inside.
The moment Elizabeth was in the door she was hit with a safe familiar feeling. She couldn't quite place it, but there was something there that was causing it and Elizabeth was determined to find out what.
That's all for now. Thanks to Sam for her help. Also, everyone, Dillon is NOT Jason's cousin. I added his character but there is no Quartermaine connection. Okay?
Please review, I'm desperate!
Hello everyone. Thanks for all of the reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. At the moment I'm going through a wicked case of writer's block for Together, Shadowing Death and Restart so I'm trying to update everything else regularly to make up for it.
This is the same day as chapter three, just at night.
----------------------------Elizabeth and Sam's Apartment
"Elizabeth Hardy! You're not getting out of this, get out here!" Sam yelled from outside Elizabeth's door. She was fully decked out in club attire. A cranberry tanktop with a slinky short black skirt that fit her like a glove, the outfit was finished off with knee-high black boots.
Behind the door a groan could be heard. Elizabeth had been fighting going to the club more than anything. Truth be told, the club did sound like a nice one. Sam had said it included three levels. The first was a typical dance club type set up. Small tables lined the walls and lights flashed in intresting designs. There was a bar and a stage for live acts. The second floor was a sit down restraunt. It was more classy then its downstairs companion. The menu was a mix of almost everything. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Everything from steak to seafood to burgers to pizza. The room was decorated in warm reds and tans and the wooden tables were covered in tablecloths that matched the décor. The final floor was a pool hall/ sports bar mesh. TV's overhead had various games running on them and there were pool tables that littered the room. It was more a upscale bar set up.
Sam had been looking forward to it all day and had refused to be swayed on the choice to go. Something that Elizabeth had attempted to do very hard. "Sam, wouldn't it be better to just stay home tonight. Or we could go to that café you love...."
Even behind the closed door Elizabeth could tell her friend was contemplating. Her hopes were soon dashed, unfortuneatley.
"Nice try, Hardy."
Giving in to the inevitable Elizabeth opened the door. Her blue sequined number was short and had only one strap. It complimented Elizabeth's eyes perfectly. "Fine. Lets go."
Sam quickly hooked her arm in Elizabeth's and walked her to the door. "I knew you'd see it my way."
------------------------------The Boxcar
"So, you actually coming out of your penthouse tonight?" Dillon asked Morgan offhandedly.
Morgan looked Dillon, whom he'd taken under his wing. He hadn't been in Rome long before he'd met up with a kid who tried to steal his wallet. It didn't take much to get him to give it back once Morgan had caught up with him. There was something about the then eighteen year old that stuck a cord in Morgan. He offered to get him something to eat. Dillon, whose name he had learned soon after, had accepted his offer enthusastically.
According to Dillon, his mother was some gold digger type. She dragged Dillon from guy to guy with her and often used him to con money out of them. The moment he turned eighteen he was out of the door and hadn't seen her since. The little money he had managed to steal from his mother was quickly used up and after three months on his own, he was on the street.
A year later the two were like brothers in all senses of the word. Teasing included. Dillon lived with Morgan in the penthouse that was the fourth level of Morgan's club. Dillon worked on the first floor mostly, but was also brought in on the other two as a client relations type. It was rare that they actually had to bother Morgan with those types of things. Dillon knew that his friend wasn't a people person and tried to take care of all of those things so Morgan wouldn't have to.
Morgan was eyeing him with a typical big brother stare, "I come out."
His weak argument was met with a eye roll. "Oh of course, how could I forget that infamous lurking?"
"I don't like crowds." Morgan stated defensively.
Dillon nodded, smirking, "I know, you've told me."
Truth was, Dillon did know. After much asking and eventually a lot of forcing on Dillon's part, Morgan had told Dillon about himself. Everything from Jason Quartermaine, to Sonny Corinthos. Dillon knew about his time as Michael's father, and his love for Elizabeth Webber. Morgan's tale had given Dillon a whole new respect for him.
Dillon was also the only person that knew Morgan's real name. He rarely invoked it. Only to get his attention or when they were in the middle of a serious talk. But never in front of other people.
Morgan put down the pen he was using for the books and stared off for a second. "I just have this really weird feeling about tonight."
"The feeling you have is a overwhelming urge to come out and dance like the funky partier you are." Dillon joked, trying to lighten the mood and hopefully get Morgan to crack a smile. "I realize it's a new feeling for you, but go with it, good things may happen."
Instead of getting a smile, Dillon got a pillow from the couch being thrown at his head. "Fine, fine, see what happens when I try to help you? I'm going downstairs, and if I don't see you eventually I'll drag you down there."
"I'd like to see you try." Morgan continued with the banter. Dillon was the only person that Morgan would smile for or even acknowledge most of the time.
Dillon put his hands up in mock surrendar and headed to the elevator. He hit the button for the first floor and stepped out when his destination had been reached. The Boxcar was one of the hottest clubs in Rome. It was almost always jam packed and the door was manned by several muscle men who kept people out.
He scanned the room and saw some regulars and a whole lot of hot girls. Every danced as though they wouldn't ever get the chance to again. The way the bartender sent him a overworked smile Dillon knew they were in for yet another good night. He pushed his way through the hordes of dancers to the front of the room and through the door. The two bouncers on call for the night were two of the biggest sides of beef that Dillon had ever seen.
In front of them stood what had to be fifty people, all begging to be let in. Two smaller women at the amongst the crowd caught his eye. The one to the left had auburn hair that Dillon thought was the most beautiful shade he had ever seen. There was something different about her that he didn't see in most girls.
He poked the beefier of the two guards, Scott, and pointed out the two girls. He nodded and Dillon waved to them, signalling that they could come in. His girl grabbed the other by the hand and weaved them through the crowd.
"Come on in ladies. The Boxcar's policy is that the beautiful ones can't be left outside." Dillon drawled and grinned at the one he had been watching. "Name's Dillon Clifton."
"Sam McQueen." The young woman stuck her hand out to shake and the moment their fingers connected they both got a shock down their spines. For a second they seemed to have forgotten Elizabeth, who was watching the whole thing was a amused smile.
Dillon wrenched his hand back in shock and then turned to Elizabeth. "And whose the one with the beautiful baby blues?"
"Elizabeth Hardy."
In that moment Dillon got another shock. Elizabeth Hardy? Her face matched with the picture Morgan had shown him only once.
Elizabeth Hardy was Elizabeth Webber. Jason Morgan's great love.
"Nice to meet you Elizabeth." Dillon said in a quick recovery. "Tell you what ladies. Since the bouncers forgot our beautiful women policy I'll treat you both to a free drink to make up for the rude waiting."
Elizabeth was about to protest but Sam discretly tapped her boot against Elizabeth's sandals. "We'd love to." Sam said as Dillon ushered them inside.
The moment Elizabeth was in the door she was hit with a safe familiar feeling. She couldn't quite place it, but there was something there that was causing it and Elizabeth was determined to find out what.
That's all for now. Thanks to Sam for her help. Also, everyone, Dillon is NOT Jason's cousin. I added his character but there is no Quartermaine connection. Okay?
Please review, I'm desperate!